Mr. Modesty

Today was Seth's annual hip appointment. Unlike the last two appointments, at which I was told "His hips are not normal, but there's nothing we need to do about it" (oh yeah, and thanks for your money), this time his hips ARE perfect, now the excuse is that kids with developmental dysplasia need to be followed up to make sure their limbs lengthen at the same rate. Please. Maybe I'm cynical, but I see the kids in the waiting room that are having fractures checked, or chronic problems, and I feel like we are wasting a time slot by being there. At work, I tell parents to look at the baby, and let me worry about the numbers on the monitor. At the same time, I can't use that monitor to make all my decisions. Ever since our first visit, I have felt like the scans on the computer meant more than the whole of Seth. (At our very first appointment 2 years ago I had to remind the doctor to actually assess my child...yes, they have psycho mom on my chart there.) He's running, he's climbing. I feel like we should be cleared to just have our pediatrician evaluate his gait/skin folds etc, and hello, I know what to look for. I voiced my opinion, but to no avail.

Now, onto the reason for today's title. Seth was appalled that he had to undress for his appointment. His x-ray took a long time because he kept trying to pull his shorts back up. And the nurse asked me to take off his shorts while we were waiting for the nurse practitioner, and that caused a scene. He ended up having to hold his shorts in one hand and his flops in the other while sitting in my lap as the practitioner assessed him. He thought it was very cool to look at his x-ray on the computer. He understood that it was the picture he took of his legs. He kept saying "knee" and "toe" and pointing them out.